


Accidentally In Love

by Star55



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Alternate Universe, M/M, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-09
Packaged: 2018-02-08 03:20:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1924755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star55/pseuds/Star55
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis wakes up with a killer hangover and a marriage certificate for a guy he's never even met before.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Accidentally In Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [colourexplosion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/colourexplosion/gifts).
  * Translation into 中文 available: [Accidentally In Love (Chinese translation)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8053720) by [Niallerandthepotatoes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niallerandthepotatoes/pseuds/Niallerandthepotatoes)



> Giftee, I hope you enjoy the story. (:

It’s every cliché ever written about hangovers that Louis is one hundred percent experiencing right now. The throbbing headache, the churning stomach, the sensitive eyes – all of it. He’s experiencing all of it and it _sucks_. 

With a groan, Louis manages to crack open his left eye just a tiny bit. Even that hurts far too much. He quickly closes his eyes, scrunching them closed against the brightness of the room. He must have forgotten to close his blinds last night after getting in, or something. Not that he even actually remembers getting home. He just hopes he didn’t embarrass himself too much, unlike other times he has. 

A groan rings throughout the room and it takes Louis a few long moments to realise that it didn’t come from him. He furrows his brow a little, even that hurts, everything just _hurts_ , and he has to wonder just how much he had to drink the night before. It’s probably time he limits himself. A part of him snorts at that. Louis knows that he tends to overdo it. Compensation for not drinking too much in his earlier years. He groans again. He’s now twenty-five years old. When the heck did _that_ happen? 

There’s another groan and Louis snaps both eyes open. He immediately regrets it, of course, as the light of the room floods his pupils, making everything hurt one hundred times more. He turns his head slowly and yep, there’s a body in the bed next to him. All he can see is a mass of curly brown hair poking over the top of the blankets. 

“Fuck,” the person next to him mumbles, unintentionally sounding like a foghorn to Louis’ sensitive ears.

It takes another moment for Louis to realise that he’s completely naked under the covers and from the looks of things, the person sitting up next to him also is naked. Well, he hopes that he had a good time at least. It’s a shame he can’t remember it, though, especially not when the other male turns around to look over at him.

“Oops,” the stranger says, a guilty look on his face, like he is annoyed with himself for swearing or generally being hung over.

“Hi,” Louis says with a nod. He regrets that, too. He squeezes his eyes closed and wills the throbbing in his head to go away. The bed dips and shifts as the stranger gets out of bed. There are soft footsteps echoing through the room as he leaves and Louis wonders exactly where the guy is going. He isn’t even sure that he showed the guy around last night, if at all, when they got back.

“Here.” The voice is back a moment later and Louis squints up at him. There’s a glass of water being held out to him and a genuinely concerned look on the other guy’s face. 

“Thanks,” Louis says and slowly sits up. He reaches for the glass and takes the two paracetamol pills in the guy’s other hand, swallowing them down with the entire glass of water.

“So,” the guy starts. “I’m not sure about you but I have no idea who you are?”

Louis lets out a sigh of relief. “Me either,” he replies. “I’m Louis.”

“Harry.” He has a nice smile, Louis thinks as he sets the glass down. “Not sure if you’re aware where you are, but we’re at my flat.”

“Oh.” Louis looks around the room a little and realises that yes, he is definitely not in his bedroom in his flat. Not by a long shot. His gaze travels across the room, taking in the corkboard filled with photos hanging on one wall, to the very large window that has absolutely no blinds whatsoever, letting in too much sunlight for Louis’ poor hangover to deal with. His gaze settles back on Harry, taking in his slightly flushed cheeks, his striking green eyes, and his unruly curly hair. Louis bets that he got his hands in there good the night before. “Shit,” he starts, biting his lip. Strangely, Harry does the same. “I don’t even remember if we had sex last night.”

“Oh, we did,” Harry replies instantly. “We _definitely_ did.”

“Oh,” Louis echoes. “Well, was it good?”

“From the look of that love bite on your neck, I’d say it was pretty good,” Harry replies. “Plus, I’ve found two condom wrappers on the floor already.”

Louis smirks to himself. Well, even if he can’t remember it, it’s nice to know he had good sex. As Harry turns away, in nothing but a tiny pair of black briefs, Louis can’t help but regret the fact that he can’t remember it at all. He wonders if it’s too cheeky to ask Harry to go again when he returns from wherever he’s going. 

Louis doesn’t normally do one night stands that result in him actually spending the night with the person. Normally he leaves as soon as the sex part is over. It’s too awkward otherwise. At least in the past it always has been. 

With a stretch and a yawn, Louis sits up in bed, feeling the pounding in his head lessening by the minute thanks to the paracetamol. He could really go for a full English right about now. Or at least a decent fry up. He swings his legs over the side of the bed and reaches down to pick up his underwear off the floor. He steps into them and as he reaches down to pick up his shirt from the night before, he notices a piece of paper tucked underneath it. He picks it up, curiosity invading his mind. 

As he scans over the words, however, his stomach plummets and he sits down heavily on the bed. 

He’s married. _Married_. 

According to the paper still in his hands, he’s married to _Harry_. Who he’s literally just met. Well, obviously not _just_ met, as he has the paper in his hands to prove just how stupidly drunk he was last night, but he has no idea who the guy is. And he has no idea how on Earth he managed to marry the guy so shortly after meeting him.

Oh crap. His mum is going to kill him.

Not that he wasn’t an adult in his own right, of course, but she was going to skin him alive. 

Panic claws its way up Louis’ throat and he set the paper down on the bed, hastily reaching for the rest of his clothes. He yanks on his jeans, ignoring the way his body protests at the slightest of movements. His mind keeps echoing the same word over and over in his mind. Married, married, married. He is fucking married. Shit, this is not good.

Just as Louis is hopping on one foot, trying to pull his shoes on, Harry comes back into the room holding two steaming mugs in his hands. 

“Oh,” Harry says, a sad tinge to his voice that makes Louis stop what he’s doing and look at Harry. He’s adorably rumpled still, his hair sticking up in all different directions but somehow it looks amazing. His expression is soft, if not a little hurt, as he trails his gaze over Louis’ now clothed body.

“Erm,” Louis articulates brilliantly. “I… Do you remember anything about last night?”

Harry shakes his head, making curls fall into his eyes. He wordlessly passes Louis one of the mugs and Louis automatically takes a sip. _Damn_ , he thinks, _that’s good tea_. 

“Not really,” Harry replies. “I remember getting to the pub, but that’s about it. I think we met there.”

“Yeah,” Louis says with a sigh. “It was my birthday party.”

“Oh!” Harry says, perking up. “Happy birthday.”

Louis gives him a weak smile. “Thanks.” He takes another sip of the cup of tea in his hand and stupidly looks over at the piece of paper lying so innocently on the unmade bed. It’s anything _but_ innocent, Louis knows this, but he can’t stop staring at it. Harry must follow his gaze because a moment later, Louis’ reaching out to stop him but Harry’s got these stupidly long arms that get in Louis’ way before he can even get there and he has the piece of paper in his hands. 

“Oh,” Harry repeats. “Well.” 

Louis grips the mug in his hands a little tighter. “Yeah,” he says. 

“Well,” Harry says again and he gently sets the piece of paper down on the end of the bed. “I guess an annulment is out of the question since we consummated the marriage.”

“…Consummated the marriage,” Louis echoes. “Christ, I’ve gone and married some proper little thing, haven’t I?”

Harry’s lips quirk in a brief smile before his face folds into a frown. Louis’ stomach drops at that, too. “We can get a divorce,” Harry says, the tone of his voice changing to something harder. “Just leave your number and I’ll call my family lawyer to deal with it.”

Louis is rooted to the spot. He knows it’s utterly stupid but he feels a little hurt by the sudden change in Harry’s demeanour. He just nods and sets his empty mug down on the bedside table behind him. He picks up a pen and scribbles his number on the back of a receipt and folds it over. With his back to Harry, he closes his eyes briefly, scrunching them shut for a few long moments, pushing all of his thoughts and feelings away before he turns around and passes Harry the piece of paper.

“I guess I’ll be going then,” he says. “Thanks for the tea.” He pushes passed Harry before he can react and leaves his flat. 

It’s snowing when he steps outside. Of course he doesn’t have a coat or anything, or even a clue where he even is. He just has his mobile phone which is dead in his pocket, and his wallet that he’s sure only has a ten pound note in it. With a sigh, Louis sets off down the street to try and find somewhere to indicate exactly where he is so he can call someone to come and pick him up. 

It’s stupid. Louis knows it’s utterly stupid but he can’t help but feel put out at the fact that Harry so clearly didn’t want him. 

Of course he shouldn’t – they had just met. Well, technically. Either way, they had met less than twenty-four hours ago and somehow managed to convince each other to get married in that space of time. Or just decided to do it on a whim. It could possibly be a dare. 

All Louis knows is that it was his birthday celebration and he wanted to get drunk. Stan had called it their pre-New Year’s Eve drinking party. To get themselves prepared for a night of drinking and mayhem on New Year’s Eve. Now, though, Louis isn’t sure what he’s going to do.

With a huff, and a kick of a stone that was in his way, Louis makes his way into the nearest café. It’s warm inside, which he is grateful for. He shakes off the snow that has clung to his jacket as he steps inside and joins the relatively small queue. He scans the boards to see what strikes his fancy but finds that nothing does. He orders a cup of Yorkshire Tea and finds an empty seat along one of the walls. It has a view of the street outside, and Louis can see the snow sticking to the ground. He sips his tea and wonders how far it is from wherever he is to his flat. Nothing looks familiar around him. Normally this would excite Louis but after the morning he’s had, it’s annoying. He just wants to go home, curl up with his cat and annoy Zayn on the phone until he caves in and brings Louis Chinese food for dinner. 

After he finishes his drink, Louis approaches the counter to ask exactly where he is. He astutely ignores the raised eyebrow at the question and then asks to borrow a phone. He’s handed the store’s landline phone and he quickly dials Zayn’s number, knowing that Zayn wouldn’t have had nearly as much to drink as himself, or Stan, and would probably be sober enough to come and pick him up.

Zayn is there twenty minutes later, much to Louis’ relief. 

“What happened to you last night?” Zayn asks as they pull away.

“Oh, you know, the usual,” Louis starts. “Got drunk, met a guy, got married.”

The car suddenly lurches forward in a burst of speed and Zayn swears under his breath. “Christ, Lou,” he says. “You don’t do things half way, do you?”

“Mmm,” Louis hums. “Well, we’re getting a divorce anyway.”

“…Then why do you sound disappointed at that?” Zayn asks. Damn him and his obnoxiously keen perception of Louis and everything he’s thinking at any given time.

Louis lets out a heavy sigh. “I don’t know,” he replies honestly. Because he doesn’t know. It’s so many levels of stupid that Louis should be bloody well relieved that Harry wants to get a divorce. He doesn’t understand why it annoyed him so much when Harry suggested it. It’s not like they could make it _work_ – they don’t even know each other. Louis can’t even remember the _sex_ yet, and that’s a big factor in him choosing a future husband. He can’t just get married to someone who he isn’t compatible in bed with. It’s just not going to happen.

“Lou?” Zayn presses as they turn a corner. “You alright?”

Louis hums again and shrugs. He looks out of the window and wonders what Harry’s doing now. If he’s ringing his family lawyer to get this whole mess sorted out or not. He wonders what Harry’s mum has to say about it.

They pull up to Louis’ flat after a short while, the rest of the car ride spent in silence. Louis barely even registers Zayn following him as he puts the key into the lock of his front door. He heads straight for the kitchen to make himself something to eat. Not that there is really anything edible in the kitchen. He should have made Zayn to stop at Macdonald’s or something so he could grab something disgusting to eat. 

He makes scrambled eggs for himself and Zayn, mostly as an apology for being grumpy and getting Zayn to come and collect him. 

“Want to cuddle in bed?” Zayn offers once they’ve finished eating. Louis shakes his head. 

“Better not,” he replies. “I’m a married man, now.”

Zayn makes a face at Louis and gets up, wrapping his arms around Louis in a cuddle. “What’s bothering you, Lou?”

Louis sighs and flops down on his couch. He throws his arms over his eyes and lets out a muffled groan. “I’m pissed off at myself,” he starts. “I thought when I got married, it would be _it_ , you know? And now I’ve gone and married some stranger who I don’t even remember shagging. It’s all a bit pathetic.”

Zayn’s hand is warm on Louis’ thigh as he pats it comfortingly. “Mate,” he says slowly, “there are worse things that can happen when you’re drunk. You’ve done almost every single one of them. This is just another to cross off the list.”

Louis throws a pillow at Zayn’s head and Zayn just laughs it off. “What’s my _mum_ going to say?”

“Don’t tell her?”

“Zayn,” Louis says. “This is my _mum_. She knows when I’m lying to her.”

“It’s not lying if you just don’t tell her,” Zayn replies easily. “C’mon, stop being so weird about this. We’ve got New Year’s Eve in two days’ time and you can’t be all mopey when that happens. Marriage or not, you’re coming to this party.”

~*~

The next time Louis expected to see or hear from Harry was through his lawyer to organise their divorce. He didn’t expect Harry to literally bump into him at Sainsbury’s with a shopping cart full of alcohol and groceries. They both shot each other a sheepish look and Louis felt his stomach swoop pleasantly at the smile that graced Harry’s face. His dimples made Louis want to lick stuff out of them.

He remembers bits and pieces of the other night, of getting plastered and getting married to Harry. He also remembers bits and pieces of the pretty amazing sex they had as well. He would be lying if he said he didn’t want to repeat it, but it didn’t seem that Harry was of the same mindset.

“How are you?” Harry asks and Christ, this is like meeting an ex after a fresh break up. It’s so awkward and Louis wants the ground to open and swallow him whole. 

“Erm,” Louis starts.

“Sorry, weird question, right?” Harry bites his lip and even that’s incredibly endearing. Louis wants to shove him up against the shelf and snog him senseless. 

“Yeah, a little, it’s alright though,” Louis replies. The last thing he wants is for Harry to think he married an arsehole.

“I’d better go,” Harry says at the exact same time that Louis says: “Do you want to come to my New Year’s party?”

They both laugh awkwardly and Louis grips the handle of his cart a little tighter. “I’ve got plans already, sorry,” Harry replies. He sounds sad, which Louis figures is something.

“Yeah, of course you do. Stupid question. I’ll just… See ya, Harry.” With that, he pushes his cart in the opposite direction as fast as he can; his mind telling him that it’s yet another time that he’s practically ran away from Harry and their awkwardness. If only he hadn’t been so stupid as to marry the guy the same day he met him. He could deal with drunkenness and semi-awkward sex but this was way out of Louis’ capability to comprehend properly. 

He leaves the store as quickly as he can and drives back home. When he parks his car, he hits his head repeatedly on the steering wheel until his vision swims a little. 

It is positively stupid of him to even entertain the idea that Harry could possibly be interested in him. Not with their drunken adventures still looming over their heads. Maybe he should just cancel the New Year’s party and go back to Doncaster to spend the night with his mum. 

As tempting as his brain makes that sound, he logically knows that his mum would find out in seconds that he married a stranger and she’d have his head. Best not poke the dragon and all that.

Louis focuses all of his attention over the next day and a bit on creating the best party possible. He pushes all thoughts of green eyes, curly hair and _dimples_ out of his mind as far as it will go. He ignores Zayn’s worried glances as well. He is going to throw the best goddamned New Year’s Eve party ever and he is going to forget about the fact that he’s married just for _one_ night.

He hadn’t heard from Harry at all since their awkward exchange at Sainsbury’s and Louis figures that his lawyer is on holiday or something, not that he cares, of course, Harry can deal with it. He’s ninety-nine percent sure that their marriage is all Harry’s fault anyway. Not that he can remember it, of course. Those details are still a little fuzzy. He just remembers being at the pub and suddenly getting married and kissing Harry for all he was worth afterwards. And the sex. The sex he remembers. And it was such _good_ sex, too. Louis can’t even recall a time where he’d had such a good time having sex. It wasn’t even just the actual sex itself, it was everything. The way Harry had touched him, the kisses, the looks, and the way they had cuddled after, falling asleep curled up in each other’s arms. 

Louis shakes his head. He can’t afford to think of that right now. His guests are going to start arriving soon and he plans on being sufficiently drunk within the hour.

Apparently he didn’t get drunk enough because around eleven o’clock, who should walk through his door other than Harry… Well, he doesn’t recall Harry’s last name but whatever it is, Louis isn’t going to take it. He’s a Tomlinson and he’s proud of it. Harry is just going to have to deal with it, if he wants to be married to Louis. 

He may be a little drunk.

He frowns as he spots the curly head of hair heading towards someone in the crowd and Louis tries to stand on his tip toes to find out who but he can’t see passed the masses of people crowded into his flat. 

“If you’re frowning, you’re not drunk enough,” Zayn says as he appears at Louis’ side a moment later. “Here, drink more.”

Louis accepts the drink and sighs. He lost track of Harry’s pretty hair. “My husband is here.”

“ _What_?” Zayn splutters, almost dropping his drink. He doesn’t. Louis is grateful for that. His flat is already trashed. He isn’t going to have fun cleaning this up in the morning, that’s for sure. He thinks Zayn has hired a cleaning crew already but he can’t exactly remember right now. He’s a little drunk.

“My husband,” Louis repeats. “If he thinks I’m taking his last name, he’s got another thing coming!”

“Lou… Lou, you’re getting a divorce, remember?” Zayn prompts. 

Louis huffs. “I should go tell him he’s not welcome,” he says, taking a long sip of his drink. He pushes away from the counter he’s leaning on and okay, he might be more than a little drunk. He sways a little but makes his way through the crowd. 

A moment later, Louis catches a glimpse of Harry’s hair only to be bumped into from behind, causing his gaze to shift and lose sight of Harry altogether. 

“Louis!” Stan yells at him, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “It’s getting closer to midnight, mate, you should tell the masses.”

Louis nods. Stan is right. He finds a chair and stands up on it, hollering at the crowd. He should have thought of standing on something sooner, he can see a lot more people from up this high. “There’s fifteen minutes to midnight, you drunken idiots. Time to find someone to snog at midnight if you haven’t already.”

Everyone cheers and Louis catches sight of Harry across the room. He steps down off the chair and wobbles for a moment before heading over to where he last saw Harry. It takes a few long moments before he’s finally in reach of Harry and he shoots some girl who’s rubbing her hand up Harry’s arm a withering glare and she leaves. Good. Harry is his husband. How very dare she.

“Hi,” Louis says stupidly. “So, you came after all?”

Harry bites his lip. “This is the party I was invited to,” he replies, moving his drink from one hand to the other. “My mate Niall invited me.”

“Wait, Niall as in _my_ Niall?” Louis asks, blinking through the fog in his brain.

“I don’t know,” Harry replies with a shrug. “He’s Irish, is your Niall Irish?”

“ _The_ most Irish,” Louis says with a nod. “He’s my best friend’s boyfriend.”

“Then that would make you the Louis that Niall goes on about sometimes,” Harry says, a smile forming on his pretty lips. Louis wants to kiss them already.

“I want to kiss you already,” Louis says a moment later and well, he wasn’t supposed to say that but what the hell. “Why won’t you kiss me?”

“Lou…” Harry says softly. He steps a little closer. “I don’t want to kiss you when you’re drunk. Last time that happened, we got married.”

“Well, it’s not like we can get married again,” Louis replies. “We already did that.” Harry’s lips are pink and enticing and Louis can’t take his gaze off them. “I can’t stop thinking about you,” he admits. “That morning after… Everything was wrong. And I want to kiss you again.”

Harry sighs and suddenly their heads snap up as someone begins counting down from ten. Louis’ gaze locks with Harry’s own as the seconds pass and at the three, Harry surges forwards and captures Louis’ lips in a kiss. Louis melts into the touch, wrapping his arms around Harry as best as he can while holding onto his drink still. They kiss for a few long moments, Harry’s lips taste sweet like his drink and Louis can’t get enough of it. He presses closer and there’s moaning and Louis can’t tell whether it’s from himself or from Harry but he can’t bring himself to care.

“Yeah, that was good,” Louis says when the kiss breaks. Harry laughs and pecks his lips once more. “We should stay married.”

“What?” Harry asks, pulling back just enough to gaze into his eyes.

Louis nods. “We should stay married,” he repeats. “Because I want to date you, Harry… Wait, I don’t know your last name.”

“It’s Styles,” Harry replies. “It was on the marriage certificate.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely taking my last name,” Louis comments and Harry just laughs, his eyes crinkling a little in the corners. Yeah, Louis is definitely falling for him. “What do you say?” 

“Stay married?” Harry repeats and Louis nods eagerly. “Yeah, okay. There’s something about Harry Tomlinson that just sounds _right_.” Louis beams at him and throws his arms around Harry, pulling him in for another kiss. He’s right, Harry Tomlinson does have a pretty nice ring to it.

**Author's Note:**

> Now that author reveals have been done, I can say hi properly.  
> Hiiiii.  
> You can find me here on [tumblr](http://star55.tumblr.com) and/or on [twitter](https://twitter.com/Star_55) if you like. ♥


End file.
